


The Message

by lionessvalenti



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Community: comment_fic, Dark, Gen, Manpain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-05
Updated: 2012-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-30 15:18:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/pseuds/lionessvalenti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Reapers leave Nick a message. He's listening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Message

She's still warm when Nick finds the body. He knows this because slips in her blood and falls to his knees next to her. The blood, wet and sticky, absorbs into his jeans. It's already spread across the hardwood floor and is soaking into her hair. He reaches for her hand.

There's still a part of his mind, the cop in him that's an instinctive part of who he is, that tells him not to touch her, that says to preserve the scene of the crime. Because if he can't be a cop right now, then he has to actually think about Juliette's body before him.

But he touches her and her skin is still warm against his own. Her killer must still be nearby, maybe not even to the end of the block. He should get up and find them. He should call the station. He should do something other than stare at Juliette's slit throat. At her eyes still open, wide with surprise. They must have come at her from behind, and she didn't hear them. There are no defensive wounds on her arms, no cuts or bruising. If she'd seen them, she would have fought back.

Yes, he should call the station, but it doesn't matter because he knows who did this.

_The blood pounds so loudly in his ears, he can't hear anything else._

Juliette's blouse is ripped open and a scythe is carved into her chest.

_His vision blurs and sharpens, then blurs again, but he can see the scythe clearly, no matter how tightly he closes his eyes._

It's a message. It's a message from the Reapers to the Grimm.

Nick stands, his jeans sticking to his knees, and he manages to pull his phone from his pocket. He dials Hank, but he's not sure what he says. He knows there are words coming out of his mouth, but he doesn't know what they are. He may not be making sense, but even that would prompt Hank to come.

That's when his hands start to shake and he drops the phone. It splits into two pieces, but it's not broken. He can still hear Hank's voice through the speaker, tinny as he says, "Nick? Nick? I'm coming over."

This is what Marie had warned him about, Nick realizes. She was right. He should have left Juliette the day he shot the Reaper. He should have broken up with her, while carrying the engagement ring she was clearly never meant to wear in his his pocket. He should have saved her. it had been in his power the whole time, and now it was too late.

Time jumps and Hank is there. Renard is there. Some uniforms are there. More lights are on, but no one's touched Juliette's body. Someone is taking crime scene photos.

Nick blinks, trying to account for the last half hour, and there are tears in his eyes, now rolling down his face. He wipes them away and finds that his cheeks are wet. When did he cry? He looks at her body and the tears are gone. She's not going to be warm anymore.

"Nick," Renard says, "I'm going to need to take your weapon."

 _Nick, I need you to not do anything crazy, like go on a revenge rampage after your girlfriend's murderer_ , is what he's really saying. _It would look poorly upon the department if I had to arrest you for murder._

"Take it," Nick replies, pulling his gun from the holster. He shoves it in Renard's hands; he might as well have thrown it in his face.

"We're going to do everything we can," Renard says, placing his free hand on Nick's shoulder. "We're going to find who did this and bring them to justice. We'll take care of it."

But there is no justice. For the first time, Nick realizes that his world has no justice. He lives in a world of blood now.

"I don't need my gun," he says, as though Renard hadn't continued speaking. He thinks of the trailer full of his family's weaponry. There has to be something in there that can kill a Reaper. If a bullet can do it, any number of the swords and knives should handle the job. "I don't need it."

Renard's grip on Nick's shoulder tightens. It might have hurt if Nick could still feel, but everything is numb. "Don't do anything. I'll take care of it."

Cold rushes through his body, the familiar prick of when he sees the true faces of the creatures in his city, and Nick raises his eyes, half expecting to see a distorted face before him. "Do you know who did this?" he asks, voice shaking.

Renard hesitates, only a split second, and he replies, "That's what police work is for."

Nick pulls away and walks out of the house, onto the porch. There's the smell of rain in the air, and someone in the neighborhood has a fire going. He can't leave now, not when his house is full of cops, but he's itching to get to the trailer. His fingers actually twitch at the thought of a blade in his hands.

When Marie died, they got a different sort of Grimm. They didn't get a heartless killer, they got a Grimm full of compassion. They got someone who was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. A cop who'd never been jaded by the job and wanted to see the best in people. They got second chances and mercy.

He looks at his hands there's blood on them. Juliette's blood. It's dry and peeling away from his skin, but it's never going to really disappear. He'll always feel it there, reminding him that he'll never see her smile or hear her laughter again. He'll never wake up with her next to him in bed.

His love twists and slips away from him. It dies and turns to darkness. There's no more laughter.

The days of mercy are over.

If it's a war they want, it's a war they're going to get.

Message received.

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically my storyline fear for this show. It'd be so tropey and horrible, the death of an underdeveloped female character to fuel the protagonist's manpain. But I faced my fear and wrote the fic, hoping that if it's out there in the universe, it won't end up on the show. And may be a good fic in the process.


End file.
